


Buns of Stiles

by Stilienski



Series: Sterek ficlets [13]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale as Superman, Detective Stiles, First Dates, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Reporter Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:58:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stilienski/pseuds/Stilienski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Stilinski finally asked out the adorkable reporter Derek Hale, but because of a little... situation Stiles can't make it to their first date.<br/>Luckily Superman is there to save the day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Buns of Stiles

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this post](http://spookyhymn.tumblr.com/post/148183461763/stereksuperman-au-stiles-looks-at-dereks) and all the super Hoechlin pictures we got this weekend. (except for the promo pic, because that picture was terrible)
> 
> Butt yes, this is to appreciate and honour all the gorgeous pictures we've been graced with.  
> Can I get a YAAAAAAAAAAAAY for the buns of steel??? \o/

Stiles would love to be able to say that he figured out the biggest mystery of Metropolis thanks to his amazing detective skills, but that would be a lie. He figured it out because he was an absolutely awful human being.

He’d been on the force for years now, gradually working his way up to follow in his father’s footsteps. And his dad had never been as proud as the day when Stiles had finally gotten the position of detective. They were pretty good with mysteries those Stilinski men. Yet neither of them had ever been able to figure out who hid behind the glorious haircurl and the red cape – and for a brief period of very questionable fashion sense, the red panties pulled on over the blue spandex… seriously, what was the guy thinking?

And it wasn’t for lack of trying, oh no. Stiles had been working on this ever since Superman’s first appearance. Fresh out of the academy and feeling ready for anything the world would throw at him on the job, Stiles had started chasing those red panties like his life depended on it. Yet after all these years, still no luck. Sometimes amazing detective skills just don’t cut it, sometimes you need just that little extra clue to fall into your lap.

Oh god, did Stiles ever wish it had fallen in his lap.

The clue came in the form of an absolutely adorkable reporter named Derek Hale. Although at the time, Stiles obviously didn’t know that glorious man would mean the breakthrough in a case he’d all but given up on. Oh no, at the time, Stiles could only think of one thing.

Derek Hale’s pretty face. It had never been a secret that Stiles was a sucker for a pretty face (in some lucky cases literally), and he’d never really cared about whether that pretty face was situated on top of a woman or a man. What? He appreciated the human form. All of it.

Anyway, getting back to the face of this specific adorkable reporter. He came to the station one day, quietly introducing himself to Stiles. A firm handshake accompanied by a disappointing lack of eye-contact.

Stiles usually hates reporters, but this one… it’s like his thing, this whole _thing_ the guy has going on makes his presscard invisible. The whole geek aesthetic _thing_ with the glasses and the white dress shirt somehow looking sharp but clumsy at the same time and please let’s not forget the freaking bunny teeth.

Of course it also helps that Derek Hale is actually a nice guy. He doesn’t push like other reporters always do. Not that he doesn’t try to get an answer from Stiles, it’s just that he knows when to quit. Stiles never thought it was possible but in meeting Derek, Stiles actually managed to meet the one respectful reporter in the whole of Metropolis.

The whole interview about some gang of carthieves was mostly a blur of “So can you tell me about…” and “I’m sorry but that’s information we can’t disclose at this point.”

“Thanks for the interview, detective Stilinski.”

“No problem, mister Hale. It was my pleasure,” Derek looked briefly taken aback by that statement, but he recovered quickly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more, but… you know how it is.” Stiles gave him an apologetic smile.

Derek answered with a warm smile of his own. “Yes, of course. I’m just glad you caught the guys.”

“Ha. Well we can’t leave it up to Superman to catch every simple thief.” Derek tensed up at the mention of Superman.

“So, how come I’ve never seen you around the station before? New in town?” Stiles was fairly certain that wasn’t the case, because the coffee cup Derek came in with was from a tiny place only people who’d been here a while really dared to go into. The café looked kind of nasty from the outside.

“No, no, I just don’t usually cover this kind of news.” Derek explained as he started putting his voice recorder and his notes back into his saddlebag.

“Oh are we too boring now that the flying man is in town?” Stiles was aiming for a joke there, but Derek immediately jumped into defense mode.

“No! No, no, of course not! I didn’t mean-” Derek pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose from where they slid lower because of his sudden flailing. “I don’t even cover Superman stories, I just… I’m doing the interview for someone who couldn’t make it today. I- you... you’re not boring!” Usually Stiles would have let the person stammering fight their own way out of the grave they were digging, but this wasn’t just any person. This was cutie Derek Hale.

So Stiles put a reassuring hand on his arm. _(Rule #3 of flirting: casual touches)_. “It’s fine, I was just kidding. And maybe I was also wondering why I hadn’t been graced with your presence before.”

“Wh- what? I… I just cover small stories and I do the book reviews. So there’s no reason for me to be around the police station all that often… for reporting reasons.” He looked around awkwardly, blushing to the tips of his ears. Derek pushed his glasses up one more time before he left. “I got to go now…. also for reporting reasons. Thanks again, detective Stilinski.”

And then Derek Hale speedwalked his way out of Stiles’ life again. Which would have been a real pity, but Stiles at least got to enjoy the view of wiggling hips and…. _a freaking jiggling bubble butt_. Detective Stilinski couldn’t do anything but stare and lick his lips.

  
  


Derek Hale hadn’t, in fact, walked out of Stiles’ life. Oh no, after that first meeting they seemed to run into each other all the time. Short meetings where they barely exchanged words, but still… some people (and Stiles of course wasn’t one of those people, he would never) would say it was fate.

They saw each other on a late night pizza run after Stiles had been involved in a wild car chase which he really needed to drown with alcohol and fast food. Derek had come into the pizza place right after him, looking even more tired than Stiles felt. Which really was a feat at that point. They were both too worn out that night to say anything to each other.

They started running into each other on the way to their respective work places. Stiles always made sure to flash Derek a dazzling smile and greet him with a cheerful “Morning! Have a good day, mister Hale!”.

And they had a couple of chance meetings in the coffee shop, the latest of which had Stiles literally running into Derek and Derek spilling his coffee all over Stiles and himself.

“Oh no! Oh I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Derek asked as he magiced some napkins out of nowhere and immediately started patting them all over Stiles’ shirt. As if it hadn’t been Stiles who’d stormed into the café without paying any attention.

“Don’t apologize for me running into you. I’m fine, it’s not like you’re made of steel. I’m sorry about the coffee.” He would have pushed Derek’s frantic hands away if it weren’t for the fact that they kept getting closer to his waistband and Stiles was an awful human being. “Let me buy you a new one, that’s the least I can do. Shit… what a mess.” Still he wasn’t stopping the patdown Derek was giving him, he just looked down with a smirk, wondering how long it would take the fumbling reporter to catch on to what he was really doing.

Very long, apparently. Three full minutes and about 20 napkins later, Derek was practically on his knees in front of Stiles in the middle of the coffeeshop, now wiping away the coffee on the floor as well. He flailed backwards when he looked up and was met with Stiles’ crotch right in front of his face.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Stiles said with a wicked grin as he helped Derek up who’d landed on his ass and was giving Stiles a look of pure shock through his crooked glasses. “Let me buy you a coffee.” Derek turned around and bend over to grab some napkins he left on the floor and Stiles didn’t even try to be subtle about checking out the glorious specimen in front of him.

“No, no, I should go home to change and… I- thanks though! You don’t have to, it’s fine.” Because Stiles was awful he ‘clumsily’ and ‘completely by accident’ dropped his wallet, and of course because Derek was actually a decent person, he bend down again to pick that up too.

Stiles was barely able to focus on getting another sentence out instead of groaning his appreciation of the magnificent view Derek was giving him. “Okay, no coffee then. How about I make it up to you with lunch?” Derek was looking around the coffee shop with fleeting glances, obviously uncomfortable because of all the eyes on them and the scene they’d just caused. “I’ll meet you at the Daily Planet. When do you get your lunch break?”

“I erm… I get off at 2, I have a short day today.. but you don’t have t-” He was stammering and looking at his feet and back up to Stiles’ face like a confused puppy.

“It would be my pleasure, Derek, are you going to make me beg for a lunchdate here? Because I will.” The puppy looked absolutely horrified at the prospect of causing even more of a commotion in the café.

“No! No, no... I erm… s-sure.” he blushed again, Stiles had been wondering where that red color was at when Derek was feeling so embarrassed at events that were clearly only Stiles’ fault. “I… I’d like to have lunch with you. That still doesn’t mean you have to pay! or.. or that you have to make something up to me! It’s just-”

“Good. I’ll meet you at the Daily Planet at 2. See you then, Derek.”

“Yeah, see you then, Detective.” But Derek wasn’t making any move to leave the café.

“Please call me Stiles, and didn’t you have clothes to take off?”

An indignant squeak passed Derek’s lips at the suggestion. “What?”

“Go change your clothes, Derek, I’m not taking you on a date dressed like that. Go on, shoo! I’ll see you at  2.”

“Right, clothes. Bye! I mean… see you later. At 2…” Then he ducked his head and fled the coffee shop.

Stiles gave himself a mental pat on the back and ordered his coffee to get him through the morning shift. But not before he watched Derek’s delicious behind wiggle out of his sight.

  
  
  


Sadly though, Stiles was never able to make it to that lunch date. He got into a bit of a situation at the station. And by that he means a hostage situation where very big guns and very bad bombs were involved. The only thing he could really think of apart from ordering everyone to just get down and do whatever the criminals asked, was how much he should thank his past self for practically forcing his dad to take a week off for once and go on a holiday. At least his dad wasn’t in this shitstorm right now.

That was about the only silver lining. Because this situation was… well, probably the worst Stiles had ever been in and for the life of him (literally, his life was at stake here) he couldn’t find a way out.

There were too many bad guys, with too many guns. They were guarding every possible exit and keeping a way too close eye on the agents. This group was not messing around, they knew exactly what they were doing. It was scarily well organized. Because they’d probably done it before. Which was absolutely no comfort, because judging by their age, they hadn’t spent an awful lot of time in prison. They seemed to all be in their twenties which meant that they’d done this before and had gotten away with it too.

They probably weren’t the kind of guys who were messy enough to leave witnesses behind and three of the guys had just taken their skimasks off… they were all fucked. And Stiles was going to die even though he still had so many things to do. Like Derek, and getting to know Derek and falling madly and deeply in love with Derek and adopt 3 babies with Derek preferably named Claudia, Thomas and Lydia…

Seriously, if this was a badly written story, it was time for the stupid deus ex machina to come in and save his life so he could get married to Derek Hale and use his butt as a pillow for the rest of his life.

And somehow that’s exactly what happens. Guess his life is a badly written story after all. One second there’s only the quiet voices of their captors and the next there’s the sound of shattering glass followed by a rain of gunfire, all aimed at the broken window. Or well, the person standing in front of it.

Of course, Stiles knew practically all there is to know about Superman because he’d always wanted to gloat to his dad about figuring out who he really was. So Stiles knew the bullets would just bounce off of the man of steel. But that didn’t make him very comfortable watching it actually happen, because it still looked like they were going to go through him like they would through a very non-super man.

This is the point where Stiles would love to be able to tell everyone that he’d been a badass detective and he’d helped Superman bring down the bad guys, but the truth is, he was just too baffled to even be in the presence of such an iconic, awesome, handsome alien. So Stiles just laid there and tried not to miss anything of the action. God, he’d kill for a bag of popcorn right now.

Apparently Superman had learned a trick or two from the Flash because it barely took him 5 seconds to run _through freaking gunfire_ and grab the two bombs the captors had been using as a threat. The thing Stiles forgot for a second was that while maybe Superman is immune to gunfire, the agents stationed here definitely weren’t. With all the bullets flying everywhere that was a valid concern Stiles should have thought of before he got to check out the arms on that super fine man.

The people he could see from his low vantage point were all okay, hidden behind desks, pressed down on the floor, arms over their heads. There wasn’t any blood yet. Which was good, let’s keep it bloodless, because Stiles didn’t want to even think about the clean up.

Superman was knocking out people left and right, bending gun barrels to make them effectively useless and throwing it all on a neat pile in the corner. Which he could definitely appreciate, as he was one of the people who’d be responsible for the mess later.

Stiles was very very grateful for his deus ex machina, because Superman basically solved the entire situation in less than 10 minutes. It was amazing. He could have been here for god knows how long if this gorgeous alien hadn’t shown up. He could have _died_ if that gorgeous alien hadn’t shown up.

Superman must have really rushed to get here, because it’s the first time Stiles saw him without a cape. Well, technically it’s the first time Stiles saw him. In real life that is, in the pictures he always wears a cape.

Stiles scrambled upright as he saw Superman bend down to help someone else up.

That’s when he figured it out.

That ass.

Stiles would recognize that gorgeous ass anywhere. Freaking adorkable Derek Hale was Superman? Seriously? The detective was more shocked by that sudden realization than by the events that just occured.

“Are you okay, detective Stilinski?” What? Okay? _Okay?_

“No, I’m not okay! You- you’re…!”

“Do you need medical assistance, detective?” Stiles squinted his eyes in utter disbelief of the man in front of him.

“No. Do you need fashion assistance picking out clothes for a date? Because I’m not taking you out when you’re wearing that.” He hissed back.

“You… what? Ho- what do you mean?” yeah right….

“How did I find out? Oh I’ll tell you how!” Stupid Superman… Derek Hale… super Derek decided that he really didn’t want anyone else figuring out his secret identity, so he just scooped Stiles up —Stiles who did definitely not squeal— and flew them both out of the window and to the rooftop.

“You ass! That is a no on the impromptu flying thing! I’ll tell you how I figured it out! You and your stupid ass! Your gorgeous perfect wonderful bubble butt is how I found out! Which is something I can never tell my dad! I figured out who fucking Superman is and I can’t even gloat to my dad about it because he’ll ask which clues I followed and I can’t tell my dad that your ridiculous ass in spandex was the clue to fall into my lap!” Stiles said with repeated pokes to the S on Superma- Derek Hale’s chest for emphasis.

Oh and there it was again, a blush, from his cheeks to that haircurl all the way to the tips of his ears. For fuck’s sake. “You don’t even look all that different without glasses, how has no one figured it out yet? Those glasses are the worst disguise ever! And I’m the worst detective ever! I hate you! I’m good at what I do… usually! But you’ve made me resort to identifying people by their ass!”

“I… I’m sorry?” It came out so hesitant and shy and so… adorkable — goddamnit, Hale! — that it sounded a lot more like a question than an actual apology.

“Hell yes you’re sorry! Which is why you’re buying me dinner after I cleaned up your mess, got it? And I swear to god, if your ass is still in those stupid spandex when you come pick me up here then I won’t ever thank you for saving my goddamn life!” Now the initial shock had tapered down a bit, Stiles was starting to realize just how much of an awful human being he was.

“Stiles, you don’t have to thank me, I’m just glad you’re okay.” How was this man **real**?!

“Believe me, you want me to thank you later. I know all the right ways to appreciate that gorgeous butt.”

At the end of the night Derek decided he should save Stiles’ life more often. Those thank you’s were super.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey, Supergirl fandom, thanks for the warm welcome of harrassment, not only on this fic but on a couple others as well. I deleted the supergirl fandom tag even though I was well within my right to use it. 
> 
> Anyway, we had a good run, Supergirl fandom. 
> 
> So long, and thanks for all the shit! o/


End file.
